


Savage Messiah

by lysanatt



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Romance, Wordcount: 10.000-30.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-02
Updated: 2012-06-02
Packaged: 2017-11-06 15:48:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/420577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lysanatt/pseuds/lysanatt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Guilt, grief and redemption are ideas which Remus Lupin knows. Intimately. When Lupin is needed by the Minister of Magic, Shacklebolt sends one of his men to fetch him, one who no longer cares about such serious matters. However, redemption and love come in many shapes and sizes, and lives which seemed set in stone are once more changing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Savage Messiah

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lordhellebore](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lordhellebore/gifts).



**1**

The clatter of a silver-headed cane on marble tiles made the guests turn their heads. Again. It wasn't as if it went by unnoticed that the Minister for Magic and his entourage of young, talented witches and wizards had arrived to dine. None of those, however, were the centre of attention. No, the sun around which the universe revolved, at least for the evening, was the man the wizarding society once loved to hate.

A pale and slightly freckled hand closed around the heavy ebony cane a second before yet another hand - a well-manicured hand that clearly never had been used for as much as one's day's hard labour - did the same. 'Allow me, Mr Malfoy,' Percy Weasley said quietly. 'I am Mr Snape's secretary after all.'

'But of course.' Lucius Malfoy pursed his lips arrogantly and let the cane go, caressing the ferocious-looking silver wolf head that crowned the exquisitely carved item in question. 'Severus has only been my friend for more than forty years. Of course that doesn't matter compared to being Severus' _secretary_ , does it, Weasley?' Lucius asked rhetorically before he huffed arrogantly and leaned back in the chair.

'Now, now, Lucius.' Severus suppressed a sigh. This was an ongoing combat. Lucius had an unfortunate habit of believing that their friendship also gave him the right to rule Severus' life. Those days were long over. When it came to social standing and wealth, Severus Snape no longer had anything to be ashamed of. The war had seen to that, together with the more than generous yearly sum that the Ministry of Magic had offered him in reward for his contribution to peace and wizarding society. Severus had not for a moment considered turning it down. Twenty years' suffering for mere idiots had finally been acknowledged and paid for, and the former Potions master was Slytherin enough to enjoy every moment of it.

Severus reached out for the cane that Percy was offering him. It had been a gift from Severus to Severus, and he liked his cane. What he didn't like was that it was a necessity. 'Thank you, Mr Weasley,' Severus said, sending his employee the measured curl of a lip, a caricature of a smile, as he tried to control his temper. 'I _really_ do appreciate being treated like a cripple,' he added sarcastically, and snapped the cane from Weasley's hand. Snape put the cane back, letting it lean against the chair's armrest. Inadvertently, he stroked the cane's silver head. It felt cool and calming under his hand. Somehow he managed not to think too closely of why he liked the design so much.

'More wine?' Minister Shacklebolt interrupted, maybe sensing where things were going. He raised the bottle, questioningly.

'No,' Severus said abruptly. He had had enough of the intense vanilla-and-raspberry taste of the _Redigaffi Tua Rita_. Italian wines were awful, in Severus' opinion.

'If you like, I am sure they have another,' Shacklebolt tried to accommodate. 'Something French, maybe?'

'No,' Severus said again, not bothering to be polite. For years on end he had been forced to be measured, restrained and polite to people he detested. He didn't care now. 'I'll have Australian. Grange Penfolds, I think.'

A black-clad waiter hurried to fetch the order almost before it was spoken. Severus Snape's temper was famous. The war hadn't changed that.

Severus hesitated, watching the waiter fill his glass with the reddish-black wine. Instead of this, this time-wasting socialising, he could be at home in his luxurious flat with his legs up and a nice book to read. Kingsley was using, no, _abusing_ Severus' precious time. Why they couldn't have had this meeting at the Ministry of Magic during working hours was beyond him. The only reason Severus could think of was that Kingsley was probably out to ask him do something he didn't want to do. Unfortunately for Minister Shacklebolt the days were over when guilt and blame moved Severus as a pawn for others to play. For all Severus cared, the wizarding world could go bugger itself and its agenda with it - if it didn't fit Severus' plans. It rarely did, as Severus' plan was to enjoy life and the appreciation that was bestowed on him. Due to the intolerable Potter-brat's hero worshipping, the Wizarding world seemed to believe that the sun shone out of Severus'... well... a body part not usually connected with sunshine.

Raising the glass, staring gloomily at its expensive content, Severus decided to cut the evening short. 'Why are we here?' he asked bluntly, not caring to cater to hurt sensibilities, or to diplomacy for that matter.

'Remus Lupin,' Shacklebolt said, returning the favour.

The Minister of Magic looked as if he was bracing himself for the tempest.

 

The storm made Remus Lupin's tiny flat a draughty, icy hell. The trees on the other side of the street were making feasible impersonations of angry Whomping Willows as the heavy wind and rain pulled and pushed leaves and branches in the darkness. The London lights were dimmed by the downpour, but Remus didn't move away from the window. He seemed mesmerised by nature's violent behaviour, the remains of a wilderness which Remus no longer knew of.

Remus pulled the soft, woollen blanket tighter around his shoulders. The blanket had been quite expensive (at least seen from Remus' point of view - and his purse), but mending the mouldy window frame would be even more expensive, and there was no way Remus could find money for that. Warming his hands on the cup of steaming tea, he sighed contently, despite the wind. Somewhere behind the clouds and the darkness the moon hung. It was no longer a threat. Remus' tiny income was enough to ensure a steady supply of Wolfsbane - and little else. The small stipend that the Wizarding world had offered him after the war had covered the purchase of a dingy London flat, a steady supply of Wolfsbane and little else. Luckily, Remus often told himself, he had learnt how to get by on very little.

And nothing could make Remus feel as rich as the knowledge that he would never have to go back to the world he once knew. London was the perfect place to hide. No one cared, no one wanted to know anything about middle-aged men with odd habits around full moon.

So, because of the Ministry of Magic's benevolence, Remus was warm (relatively), well fed (as long as he didn't overindulge) and with a bit of money left each month - maybe enough for a ticket to a play, a new book or two, or dinner at the pub around the corner (fish and chips never harmed anyone, except the fish, obviously). It was a simple and easy life, something that Remus had longed for. It left him time to read, study and relax.

Unfortunately it also left him enough time to wallow unrestrained in the one thing that disturbed his otherwise so pleasant life: guilt.

Oh, there was time. Time to wake up in the middle of the night, remembering Sirius disappearing into the world behind the Curtain. Time enough to remember Tonks's pretty face and the way it had looked when all life had left it; all her vivacity and freshness gone. Time to toss and turn and desperately trying not to think of "why didn't I do?" or "I shouldn't have!". Basically, and without noticing, Remus had exchanged his Mistress Moon for the much harsher Mistress Guilt - a new mistress who was kind enough to include everything Mistress Moon had made him do: the particularly bitter icing on the large, indigestible cake of self-blame, regret and sorrow.

Although Remus managed to enjoy aspects of his life, there were times when he found it hard. Like the times when he went to bed and lay there for hours on end, his inner film playing the moments of his life he really, really didn't want to remember.

Remus crawled under his blankets, listening to the storm and the rain. Sleep never came easy. Trying to sleep, this night was no exception from so many other nights. Over and over he watched Dora's face, all life gone - gone with their child, both taken away from him. Their son was never to be; all there was left for Remus was a smooth, peaceful face, ironed into this pale death mask by pain and blood loss. Again and again Remus watched Dora die, turning into a limp doll, useless and unwanted. That was the worst. Remus hadn't loved her, despite her bright loveliness. He never cried for her: he was not allowed to cry - as if not being able to let out the tears was a kind of punishment for... for being a coward. For being an unreliable husband. For being a husband at all. For marrying her, despite his feelings. For feeling _relieved_ that she was dead and their ties of marriage were unbound.

Sleep was a peace that Remus rarely found, as if that, too, was more than he deserved.

Finally, the soft, wonderful darkness overtook, and the horrible, painful thoughts were no more.

 

Percy put down the steaming cup of coffee in front of Severus, looking slightly uncomfortable. Severus breathed in the scent of aromatic Sumatra, not entirely pleased. 'What is this, Percy?' he asked, and pushed the cup away with one finger, as if it was a particularly disgusting insect. 'Tanzanian Peaberry before lunch, please.'

'Mr Snape, really!' Percy looked strictly at his employer. 'May I ask you to stop being so difficult, please!'

'No. You may not,' Severus said, and sent Percy Weasley a strict look. Percy's question wasn't a question. It was Percy Weasley's subtle way to berate Severus Snape his unnecessarily luxurious habits. However, Percy was indispensable and Severus was careful never to step over the line with the young man. Basically, Lucius and Percy were the only people in the Wizarding world who were not afraid of him. Usually it seemed as if people were rendered half-way into idiocy by their awe of the famous war-hero. Severus tended to appreciate that aspect. People were idiots, generally, and Severus preferred humble, hero-worshipping idiots to mere idiots.

'No, what?' Percy said, and pushed the cup back. 'I can't say that, or you won't stop being difficult?'

'There isn't any Sumatra left?' Severus pretended not to have heard the Weasley. Percy had been Severus' secretary long enough for Severus to read him easily - without any Legilimency. Unfortunately, it seemed as if Percy had some talent in that direction too.

'Drink your coffee,' Percy demanded, 'Minister Shacklebolt and Mr Malfoy will be here in five minutes, and if-'

'If I am going to behave like a human being I need my morning coffee, is that it?'

'That won't be adequate, Mr Snape,' Percy said. 'They could drown you in coffee and it wouldn't help one bit.' He bowed mock-politely and left Severus' sunny office.

Severus sighed and took a sip of the delicious Sumatra. Percy Weasley was one of the few benefits that came with the job. He was good at keeping people at bay and he didn't lack the bollocks to do it. Percy was loyal like any Gryffindor, and ambitious like the best of Slytherin. No, Severus' work would be a damned bit more displeasing without the capable secretary.

Later Severus could hear Kingsley and Lucius become the victims of Weasley's inquisitive talents. _No, it wouldn't take long. No, it wouldn't tire Mr Snape out_ Lucius reassured (a downright lie, clearly, coming from Lucius). _No, it wouldn't be troublesome. Yes, the Minister would reward Mr Snape handsomely for his time._

Yes, Percy Weasley was a handful, even for the Minister of Magic, Severus told himself, not entirely without glee. Just what Kingsley deserved for asking him to show up at the Ministry at 9.30 on a Sunday morning.

As soon as Percy seemed to have finished interrogating the couple, they were let in. 'Morning, Severus,' the Minister cheerily greeted Severus, as if it would gain him anything other than Severus' usual morning grumpiness. 'Have you thought things over?' he continued and pulled out one of the leather armchairs before Severus had offered him one. 'I'm helping myself,' he grinned, 'since you're not.'

'Isn't it what I'm paid for?' Severus growled, not truly able to be angry at Kingsley.

'Oh, if only you'd be that pliant every time I ask you something.' Kingsley looked at the coffee cup in front of Severus. 'Is there any coffee left?'

'I wouldn't count on it,' Severus replied. He would never be pliant again. 'But I'm sure Percy has already anticipated your wish.' Severus rubbed his hands, as if he could rub off the assignment Kingsley had given him that way. 'Remus Lupin?'

'Remus Lupin.'

'I don't want to.'

'We were fairly certain that would be your reply.' Lucius said, revealing that they might have discussed this case at length. 'Why, Severus? I know you weren't on the best of terms, but it is for the common good and all that.' It was probably for Lucius' good too, otherwise he wouldn't have cared to let Kingsley involve him, on that Severus was certain.

Yes, why wasn't Severus interested? There were a lot of reasons. Lucius knew most of them. Because Remus Lupin was a werewolf and Severus hated the Dark Creatures. Because Remus Lupin was a cowardly, pathetic fool. Because Remus Lupin had left with the explicit goal never to return to their world. Because nobody knew where he was. All those reasons Lucius knew, and Kingsley too. But there were more _becauses_. Reasons that Severus had a hard time even admitting to himself, or maybe especially to himself. Reasons like the mere thought of Remus Lupin evoked hidden urges inside Severus. Like the fact that Severus at times woke up at night, wet from sweat and his own semen and the scattered dreams of Remus in his arms and in his bed still hesitating to disappear; dreams that had haunted him for decades. Like the really, really disturbing fact that Severus had once more wanted something, someone, that he would never get and had been an utter, total failure at forgetting about it.

Severus caressed the wolf-headed cane tentatively. He looked up, trying to keep his face neutral. 'Because I think it would be a very bad idea asking Lupin to come back. Both the Wizarding world and he have suffered and I don't think the suffering will be lessened by his return. The werewolves-'

'The werewolves are too many, and they suffer too, Severus. That is why I want to offer Remus the position as the head of the new Dark Arts Department. We need our research to take another direction and Remus is more than capable.' Kingsley looked solemn.

'For the _werewolves_?' Severus didn't think he owed anything to any werewolves. Actually he was certain that his life would have been quite different if it hadn't been for the Dark creatures - one of those creatures in particular.

'Not only for them,' Lucius added. 'There are forces in our society who want us - the Ministry and the Aurors - to forget about the war and the dark and dangerous things that happened. As if we can go on as nothing happened. It seems as if they have a hard time understanding that we need the means to prevent such dark matters to appear in any shape and form, and constant vigilance is of the utmost importance.' Lucius looked almost as serious as Kingsley. The man was the best actor Severus knew.

'You sound like Moody now,' Severus said and smiled involuntarily at the memory of the old nutter. He had liked Moody. Moody was one of the few wizards Severus truly missed. Mad as a hatter, but talented. So very talented. That was one thing Severus appreciated. Talent. Lupin had it too, in abundance. Not even in his darkest moments, engulfed in hatred and disgust, Severus could deny that.

'Severus, please?' Kingsley looked firmly at Severus, his eyes not at all soft and brown. Kingsley had not become Auror, and later Minister for Magic because of his kind disposition, just like Lucius hadn't made his way back into politics and power because of his good looks. 'You do know I have tolerated quite a bit from you since the war, don't you?'

There was that. 'Are you telling me I act like a spoiled brat?' Severus asked softly, deceptively so. 'And that I owe you?'

'Take it as you wish,' Kingsley replied, just as softly. 'But do keep in mind that my patience isn't without limits.' Kingsley's look didn't waver the least.

'You have wasted your time, your talent and your money, Severus.' Lucius nodded. 'Isn't it time that you stop being fickle, grow up and get on with your life?' Lucius pushed a small square of white paper over the table. A London address was written on it, in Lucius' elegant handwriting.

An unexpected attack. Severus glared at the piece of paper. He never thought that anyone would ever have had the audacity to speak to him like that. Fickle?

The tempest that Kingsley and Lucius might have expected did indeed break loose.

Severus didn't mind at all to waste a bit of his infamous temper on Minister Kingsley Shacklebolt and his Pure-blood lackey.

 

**2.**

The short row of terraced yellow brick houses was slightly sooty and worn-out. Despite the area being posh, the houses still looked as when they were built: cheap housing for servants and workers alike. The whole street seemed as if disrepair was a static state. Strangely enough, because Severus knew that Muggle London had changed, but the change didn't seem to have reached this small cul-de-sac. It showed a disturbing likeness to Severus' old home, minus the smelly canal behind the house. Instead the Thames ran nearby, which was possibly what explained the attractiveness of the area. Severus could see no other redeeming features. _Fit for a werewolf_ , Severus thought and snorted haughtily, a sound that would have made Lucius Malfoy envious. Severus had changed, but Remus Lupin was still the same - feeling at home only with the ragged and the poor. This was the metropolitan version of the Forbidden Forest.

Pulling his black Muggle coat close against December's wind and rain, Severus wobbled across the street, looking for Lupin's house, bracing himself against the storm. The steel tip of his cane created little, sharp sounds against the paved street. One hand on the cane, Severus looked for number 13. Not exactly a lucky number for a man who'd had less luck than most in life.

Number 13 had a security device on one side of the door frame; a row of buttons with neatly written names on them. Snape decided to ignore it and pulled his wand out, pressing the tip against the locking mechanism. If there was one thing he didn't want, it was to discuss Wizarding matters with a werewolf over a Muggle radio system. Basically, Severus didn't want to discuss anything with a werewolf, but here he was, so he could just as well get it over with. Kingsley seemed to be a man who didn't take no for an answer, no matter if it came from Severus or Lupin.

Oh, well. There was no way around it. Kingsley was determined, and it was the kind of determination even Severus had a hard time resisting. Equally determined to get it over with, Severus braved the stairs, not too enthused about the protests from his bad leg.

Severus knocked once on the door that had _Lupin_ written on it, then once more. Lovely. No one at home. Maybe he could just leave it there, go back to the Wizarding world and forget about Remus Lupin? Making a wry smile, Severus knew it wasn't an option. For forty years, the bloody wolf had haunted him, and he knew there was no way he would ever forget about the wretched creature. Even if he tried; drowning himself in the pleasures of life, it was in vain. Severus' body reminded him every so often that Remus Lupin still was everything Severus hated and wanted and ... something else, something that Severus didn't want to put in words. It was danger, just as Remus Lupin was, and Severus had had enough of that.

Severus had managed to conquer the stairs without using too much magic, yet his bad leg was protesting wildly. He was not leaving before he'd spoken to the werewolf. So Severus sat down on the third step, relieved, and not too elegantly. He leant the cane against the wall. The silver wolf head sparkled as a speckle of light made its way into the dark corridor. 'I'm an idiot,' Severus told it. 'A bloody idiot.'

The cane didn't reply. Only it's amber eyes glittered, before the sun hid behind a cloud and left the house to sink back into the winter morning's soft, grey darkness. 

 

Remus sighed deeply. Somewhere above him the church bells rang; a lonely, deep sound that echoed the heavy emptiness he often felt in his heart. As usual, nobody heard the deep sigh. He liked to go here when the church was empty; it was as if the peace and quiet soothed his disturbed mind, especially after a night of self-blame and close to no sleep.

The stained glass windows let in little light. Winter had settled even inside the church which was cold and might have felt uncomfortable, had Remus not been used to being cold and uncomfortable. It was more pleasant in the summer; then the small city church offered cool shade and a refuge from the tourist-infested London streets.

No matter which time of year, visiting the church made things bearable for Remus. He didn't see himself as particularly religious. He didn't know much about the Muggle religion, but he understood three things: Firstly, he knew that the visits gave him the strength to continue yet another day. It wasn't as if he couldn't find that strength himself, elsewhere. He had done that his entire life - always fighting his condition alone apart from the few happy years at Hogwarts. Secondly, Remus liked the idea that love - _caritas_ , the unselfish love - seemed to be the basic message of this religion he didn't really know about, at least not in depth. Remus agreed wholeheartedly. More tolerance, love and less selfishness... the world would definitely be a better place. If he had understood that... before, well, before Dora, he might have been able to refuse her, out of love and respect for her. Now it was too late. And this lateness, that was the third reason for Remus' lingering attraction to the small stone church and what it represented.

Forgiveness.

That there somewhere was something, someone, who might offer Remus what he could not offer himself: the release from the guilt created by the deeds he so bitterly regretted. Maybe it wouldn't be in this life, but in the afterlife that Remus knew existed. He had seen proof enough of that in the Wizarding world. He could not dismiss it as pure nonsense. The presence of a Messiah did not contradict what Remus had seen with his own eyes. It eased his mind, and for that he was grateful. It made it less complicated to take on yet another day, and then another. Maybe one day he would be able to cherish life instead of cherishing the death he'd rather have. It gave him the means to stay alive, since he didn't have the courage not to.

The church bells rang again, telling Remus he had used a full half hour contemplating over nothing. Nothing was good. It was peace. Remus stood, nodded his silent thanks towards the man on the cross and left the empty church, stepping outside, into the world and the storm.

 

The peace didn't last long, however, and the way it was ruined was not to Remus Lupin's liking.

'Severus?' Remus looked at the black-clad man sitting on his not-too-clean doorstep. 'Severus?' he repeated, as if he had problems believing his own eyes. The man on the stairs vaguely resembled the angry, thin man Remus had once known. This person was still thin, but the haunted, bitter expression was gone. Remus felt as if he was looking at Snape's more mature and less traumatised twin brother, had such a person existed.

'Yes, Lupin. Your visual skills are obviously adequate.' Severus sent Lupin a glare, probably out of habit. An old habit, but a habit nevertheless. 'Although your accommodation and general condition are not.' A slight wrinkle of the remarkable nose said more than words. Severus Snape was not impressed. 'Why are you living in this... this... ruin?

Remus felt the wolf stir inside him; it had clearly been dormant for too long, or Severus was just a master of waking it up, even now, so many years after. Not being able to put up a polite surface, Remus managed to reply quietly. 'My apologies, your Highness. Had I known you would pay me a visit, I'd have berated my butler for not keeping up with his tasks.' Remus fought to keep his expression neutral. Oh, God, this was why he had wanted to leave... no wolves, no wizards, no worries... And now Severus Snape had arrived, for some odd reason, and everything Remus had fought to leave was right there, in his face, impossible to avoid.

'It is not my business where you have decided to waste your life,' Severus sneered, contradicting himself. 'I don't care, Lupin. I am only here because Minister Shacklebolt decided that I, presumably because of our friendly and loving relationship, was the right person to send.' Waving one gloved hand, he rolled his eyes, showing clearly that this was about the last place he wanted to be. Except it wasn't true, because Remus Lupin was here, and the mere sight of the man made Severus' heart beat uncomfortably fast. Ten years had passed since the war, and nothing had been forgotten. Severus wished this was over, so he could go back to his comfortable life, again repressing the desire he had for Lupin.

'You look well, Severus,' Remus said, disarmingly, and managed to find the key to the flat in his coat's deep pockets. 'Would you like a cup of tea? It' s freezing out here.' Remus felt the sentences tumble over his lips with a disturbingly natural ease. Ever the polite werewolf, even now, facing a man he didn't have any ties to, a man who had feared and disliked him for decades - and who clearly hadn't let time mend old wounds.

'Just let us get this over with, and fast,' Severus said, and tried to get up from the stairs. His leg didn't work, and he just sat there, like a spider with too many legs pulled by a cruel child. It was almost impossible to hold in the anger he felt. Anger towards his body, and towards the man he both detested and desired.

Remus watched Severus' trouble without offering help. He didn't think it would be regarded favourably. 'I heard you were bitten by Nagini,' Remus said, turning his back to Severus. It felt strangely painful to watch the proud man fight his reluctant physique. Remus didn't know exactly what had happened to the former Death Eater, but Nagini's poison had obviously worked its dark magic on Severus' body.

'Hmpf,' Severus replied, which could have been either a yes or a no, or just a sign of annoyance. There was a clatter of metal against brick. 'Better than being bitten by a werewolf,' he lashed out. No, nothing had been forgotten. Or forgiven. 'So, are you coming back?' Severus sneered, angrily. 'And I don't want any tea. I just want to get out of here.'

'Always the diplomat,' Remus sighed and turned. Severus had got up from the stairs and was standing, leaning heavily on his cane. 'Severus, I am not going back. My life here is not perfect, but it's mine. My flat, my rules. There is nothing left in your world for me. In that regard, I'm dead, gone.'

'Still busy punishing yourself, are you?' Severus shook his head. Remus Lupin hadn't changed, not at all. 'What is it _now_? Nymphadora's death? The child you didn't get? Or just your incompetence in general?' Severus' face had reacquainted itself with the bitterness and anger that had once been his trademark.

Oh, Severus knew where to stab and turn the knife. 'Yes, thank you for reminding me, Severus,' Remus said quietly. 'It is not as if I needed that.' If Severus didn't understand why Remus didn't want to go back, there was nothing to do. In the wizarding world, there was but misery and loathing left for Remus. Andromeda, Molly, Minerva, Snape. There would be people enough, more than enough, who would remind Remus of what he was and what he had done - or hadn't done.

'Do you really hate yourself that much?' Severus asked softly, surprising even himself. There had been such deep pain in Remus' words. He really needed to get out of here before their reunion made Severus' repressed feelings flare. Somehow he should be glad that the damned werewolf was living in such misery. Only Severus found that it wasn't the case and such notions were dangerous, so dangerous. It was easier just to hate; hate Severus knew.

'Please, Severus. Go home, tell Kingsley to find someone else, someone fit for the job and the world you are shaping. I am not that person.' Remus sounded so very tired, as if nothing mattered any longer.

'Very well.' Severus nodded, pulled his Muggle coat around himself, half way angrily, and Disapparated. If Remus Lupin insisted on denying his own talents and abilities and bury himself in London filth, Severus was not one to complain. Severus' life would go back to how it had been, he'd forget about Remus Lupin, and his world would be the same pleasant, luxurious and slightly boring world as it had been yesterday, before Kingsley Shacklebolt decided otherwise.

Severus managed to pretend to himself that this was the way he wanted it.

 

**3.**

Severus sat in his deep chair in his warm office, looking at the paper that lay open on the polished desk. Severus should have felt comfortable and relaxed. He didn't. He should have known. Remus Lupin was nothing but trouble. The brief visit in London was only the beginning. Severus should have known. Kingsley had been far too pliant. Severus had delivered his report, briefly and to the point, letting Kingsley know that he wouldn't get himself a tame werewolf for Christmas. The Minister of Magic had just looked at Severus, raised an eyebrow and (with a enigmatic glitter in the dark brown eyes) asked if Severus truly thought he had done his best.

Severus hadn't replied. There was nothing to say.

Obviously, Kingsley Shacklebolt had wanted a puppy for Christmas. The response to Severus' inadequate effort - obviously staged by Lucius - had come a few days later. It wasn't as if it was direct, or even addressed to Severus. No, Lucius was of course much more subtle, and so very refined, having the advantage of being Severus' soon-to-be former friend. But Severus _knew_ where it came from. He knew. Lucius could be ruthless.

'Shouldn't I take that one,' a soft voice asked as a thin hand was laid to rest on Severus' shoulder. Percy Weasley reached for the paper. 'You shouldn't read this drivel,' he said firmly and pulled the Daily Prophet out of Severus' hands. 'I wouldn't even use this for wrapping fish and chips in,' Percy added and flicked his wand to make the thing disappear.

'He is set on this, Kingsley?' Severus sighed.

'Mmhm,' Percy agreed and poured a cup of coffee for his employer. 'Otherwise he hadn't let Lucius in on this. He needs Mr Lupin, and-' Percy hesitated, holding his breath for a moment before he continued. 'I believe he thinks you need to get a challenge. A bit of mental exercise. Minister Shacklebolt is like a pit-bull...Hufflepuffs are...' Percy looked pale, as if it pained him to criticise the minister.

'I won't get out of this one, is that it?' Snape asked, knowing the answer beforehand. Lucius... he didn't have any limits when it came to manipulating other people. Tiredly rubbing the bridge of his nose, Severus closed his eyes, as if to shut out the world. 'What, precisely, is it I have done to our society that deserves this kind of treatment? Except for saving it from the Dark Lord, and almost getting myself killed because of it. Oh, I'm so happy it was worth the effort.' Severus' mouth contracted in a bitter smile. 'Salazar's beard, this is annoying!'

'Been involved with Death Eaters, possession of Dark artifacts and killings of Muggles, at least if one is to believe the Skeeter woman. And she isn't wrong, is she? It is just old news and terribly exaggerated.' Percy shook his head. 'The more sensationalist approach is that you have been Rabastan Lestrange's lover, according to yesterdays edition.'

Severus took a sip of his coffee. He felt numb. To think that Lucius had even pulled in Miss Skeeter! What a lovely reward for what he had done through the years for the wizarding society. Lucius was a manipulative bastard, choosing politics over friendship, and Severus felt like giving up the fight. The problem was that there were very few wizards that Severus respected, and whose abilities matched his own. Unfortunately, Lucius was one of them, albeit said respect was dwindling rapidly. Severus leaned back in his chair, looking up at Percy. The young man always had a calming effect on him. For a moment, Severus' thoughts strayed. Percy was attractive and he'd would be good for him. If Severus wasn't already attra-

Severus managed to stop himself, discarding the idea immediately. He had no interest in any men, Remus Lupin least of all, and despite the temptation that was Percy Weasley, the idea was merely that. An attractive idea. Severus just wanted to live his slightly boring life as a respected and admired member of the Wizarding government. Alone. As always.

'... a lesson in humility.' Percy ended his sentence and looked at Severus, as if waiting for a reply the words that Severus hadn't paid attention to. 'Mr Snape?'

A lesson in humility, indeed. 'I'm tired.' Severus reached for his cane. If this was how it was going to be, he could just as well leave. He was not going to put up with defamation and cold looks and being disrespected. He was a war hero, and he liked that the worshipping that had once been directed at Potter now included Severus Snape. He liked that his name was breathed almost in awe. He liked that he was pampered, adored and admired. And now someone - that would be Kingsley - was threatening to turn Severus' life upside down. Severus wouldn't stand for it. Only he was left powerless and emasculated. It was the choice between public ridicule or obscure ridicule.

He was not going back to be the Wizarding world's whipping boy, and that was precisely what would happen if the articles in the Daily Prophet continued.

Basically, there was no choice at all. There was of course the possibility of a revolution, but no matter how pleasant the prospect, Severus had had it with revolutions. He wanted peace and quiet and unless he fetched Kingsley's new little favourite doggie, there would be no such peace. Severus' bollocks were caught in Kingsley's hard grip . Metaphorically speaking, mind.

'Are you all right, Mr Snape?' Percy asked, in a slightly worried tone. 'Is there anything-'

'Yes, of course I'm all right,' Severus finally snapped. No, he wasn't all right. He was angry, he was disappointed, and he could feel his body react, as it did every time he felt stressed. Nagini's poison had done its work well. Severus didn't carry a cane just to look posh. 'I simply relish in the fact that I have two choices if it is up to that bloody idiot who runs this place. Either I go and suck up to a man I despise. Or I can see my reputation being sullied and dragged through the mud until the Skeeter woman has finished having fun with it. Yes, Percy, I'm perfectly all right.' He breathed out and pushed the chair back, using only his good leg. 'Thanks,' he said in a softer tone. 'There is nothing. Cancel my appointments for the next few weeks. I am leaving. I've had it. I'll let you know as soon as I have decided when to come back.'

Being the epitome of a ministry secretary, Percy just nodded, and grabbed a heavy leather-bound calendar before he disappeared into his own office. If nothing else, Percy Weasley didn't see it as his first and foremost task to make Severus' life a living hell. Small favours, but favours nevertheless. 

 

'Do you think it is possible to make so many errors that they can never be forgiven?' Remus said softly to no one in particular. The small church was empty, as usual when Remus went there. The winter's grey softness seemed to encase the entire room, leaving the light dim. The calm silence seemed to seep through the church, mingling with the light that felt like morning. Dawn. The first light on the sky. That was how it felt, the calmness of the church. Morning, when the moon went away and Remus was unshackled by the cruel fate that claimed his moonlit nights. There was freedom in the silence and the solitude. Remus spoke again. 'Or is it just easy to determine when good deeds are only done so as not to sink into perdition yourself?' Remus looked at the crucifix above the altar. The man on the cross didn't reply. Remus smiled, a little sad. Had this been in the wizarding world, he might have had a reply.

Suddenly the thought of another thin, tormented man sprang to Remus' mind. There was one who never cared about how his deeds were seen. Or if they were seen. Severus Snape had indeed taken redemption in his own hands. _A savage Messiah_ , Remus thought, the idea of Snape as a wild, untamed saviour somehow made Remus understand what might have driven the Christian Messiah to bear what he once bore, despite the fact that Snape's charity and love certainly hadn't encompassed all of humanity. Compared to those two, Remus' heroic deeds were but skin-deep. In more ways than one. Remus rubbed his arms, as if he could feel the wolf prowl underneath the surface. No, _he_ was no savage Messiah, no hero or saviour. Mostly he was but a savage, albeit he tried to hide it. Everything he had done, he had done selfishly, to protect himself. To avoid the guilt and the blame that would follow if he erred. And he had.

'Pride,' Remus said and made it sound like a question. The taste of the word didn't become him. 'You never cared what they thought of you, did you? Just like he didn't,' Remus added, cryptically. Snape had had his own miniature Via Dolorosa . So much pain. Remus felt like a coward. He hadn't been brave enough to stay and face the results of the war and of his own incompetence. 'I wish he had never come to see me,' Remus whispered. It was as if every wound had been ripped open and raw again by Snape's unexpected visit. Remus felt useless. Why Kingsley Shacklebolt wanted him back was beyond him. It was not worth it. He was not worth it. Everything he touched withered and died before his very eyes. Dora. Their child, the love that was never love. Remus' carefully formed attempt on a normal life. 'I don't even think I should be in here,' he said, almost angry at the Muggle god and the man who was his son; half god, half human. 'Not a monster like me,' he huffed, repeating the painful words that Snape had thrown at him far too many times. 'Although being both human and then not becomes you better than it becomes me.' Remus stood. This time he did not thank the God-son for his hospitality. He just left the church without looking back.

Now even this sanctuary had been disturbed.

 

It wasn't exactly pleasant to re-acquaint himself with the dirty stairs in the dingy house where Lupin lived. They were still unwashed, and as an annoying bonus the staircase now smelled of cabbage and cat piss. Lovely. The light bulb on Lupin's floor had died, and the entire building was shrouded in a cloak of London winter, which possibly made it even more unwelcoming. Why Lupin wanted to live like that was somewhat of an enigma. If the flat was as bad, Severus would personally have preferred a tent in the Forbidden Forest. Hell, he'd have taken the Forbidden Forest with no tent. The dodgy areas of Battersea were still dodgy areas, despite the unreasonable prices, and as it were, Lupin's flat was no exception.

Severus leaned against the wall, tiredly. A week ago his life had been tolerable. Now it was as unpleasant as the building he sat in. He could be at home, warm and comfortable. Instead he was _here_ , more or less evicted from the world he had begun to regard a haven. So much for respect and appreciation from the people he had helped gain power and peace. Maybe the Dark Lord would have been a better choice? Severus shuddered at the thought. Power had always been a temptation, and being in league with the Dark Lord, if only for a short while, should have taught him how power did not only present a temptation but also the ultimate corruption. It occurred to Severus that he might have forgotten that for a while. He had been childish in his pursuit of power as well as in the way he had maintained the luxury he had been offered and it had made him vulnerable. He would not make that mistake again. Not after he had had his revenge on Kingsley and Lucius for this, that was. 

A few floors down, a door was opened and closed. The sound of light feet on the stairs rose softly with a whiff of damp, cold air from outside. Severus braced himself. Even if he had to camp outside Lupin's flat, he would bring back Kingsley's pet werewolf so he could get his life back. How ironic. The beast that Severus had tried to rid himself of for years... The man who had haunted his dreams for more years that he cared to think of... The only man who had ever made Severus soft and hard and hot and cold, all at the same time.

What a cruel fate.

Remus Lupin was unobtainable, in more ways than one: he had married Nymphadora Tonks and Severus didn't think that Lupin had ever for a second looked at him as anything but a fellow Order member. It was a lost cause. If Lupin returned, it would be painful. To see the object of his desire every day and never get what he wanted... yes, that was what it would be like. More pain and suffering. Severus wasn't surprised. His life had never been easy, and somehow he had been naive enough to believe that things could actually get better.

Finally, Severus' evil fate reached the platform in the shape of a certain Remus Lupin. As Severus looked up, obscured by the darkness of the unlit staircase, the darkness gave him an unrestricted view to a man who looked sad and lost, like someone who had given up all hope.

Lupin's pain hurt Severus more than he thought it would. 'Lupin,' he said quietly, suddenly feeling like the intruder he was. 'I think I'd like that cup of tea now, please.'

 

**4.**

Remus put the mug down in front of Severus. Remus had noted how Severus looked at his belongings. But he had nothing to be ashamed of when it came to his small home. The building was dingy, but Remus' flat was impeccable. A few nice pieces of furniture (and quite a few from Oxfam, but good quality), warm, cream-coloured blankets and deep blue, woollen rugs. The impression was warm and welcoming. The walls were the colour of the summer sky, and Remus liked the effect. It didn't matter if a grumpy, former Potions master didn't. Remus sat down in the battered leather sofa, not knowing what to expect. He wished Severus would just leave, and leave Remus to the relative peace he had found in this life.

Severus took the steaming cup and sipped the hot tea. He didn't say anything. The silence stretched out between them; a long, lonely road with no end. It had been so many years, and there was so much to say or nothing at all. Severus couldn't decide which.

Of course it was Remus who broke the silence. Polite and well brought-up, the werewolf. Severus wanted to say something unpleasant, but he didn't. For a moment, he considered whether he had finally let go of the grudge he had nurtured for so long, but no. Of course not. The hatred and attraction he felt for Remus Lupin were precisely as they had always been. Severus wanted and didn't want at the same time. However, when he sat there, in the broken silence, he realised for the first time that he wanted more than he hated.

'I really wish you hadn't come,' said Remus. He felt very tired. 'Severus, you know I can't go back. I won't.' Remus shook his head, as if the physical denial would make his life fall back into its usual slightly grey fashion. 'I have fought the wars I am going to fight. No more!' Realising he sounded desperate more than firm, Remus straightened up. 'My answer hasn't changed since your last visit.' And Remus did something he hadn't done for a long while. He called upon the wolf that lurked underneath his skin, let it well up in his mind and in his eyes. 'I want to make certain you understand that, Severus.'

Severus' mug made a loud clatter as he put it down on the table. A few drops spilled over the rim and down on the polished mahogany table. 'Back to your old ways so soon?' Severus sneered, inadvertently pushing himself back in the chair. Oh, he should have known. There was no way to tame a werewolf; it would always be wild and unpredictable, no matter how much Wolfsbane it had. Severus closed his shaking hand around the head of his cane. It felt slightly calming. He opened his mouth to say something hurtful, but Remus was too fast, speaking before Severus.

'New cane, is it?' Remus asked, and his smile glittered white and predatory. 'I didn't know you had such good taste.' The wolf was sliding, barely under control, in his mind. It took him a more than just a moment to fight it back. 'And here I thought you didn't care for wolves?' Remus said, before he managed to stop himself and the wolf which wanted to know. Severus Snape and a silver wolf? There was a sight you didn't see every day.

'How I appreciate your concern for my choice of accessories,' Severus snarled, wishing he had brought another cane, only he liked this one. 'I fail to see how it is any of your business.'

'None whatsoever, I suppose.' Remus sighed. 'I just didn't think you'd care for something that... elaborate.' Remus looked at the thin hand and the long fingers, clutching the wolf cane so hard that the knuckles had turned white. The skin was no longer tainted and discoloured by potions stains. It was a beautiful hand. Remus looked at Severus for a few seconds. 'Now what?'

'What?' Severus sounded bitter. He was. He had let himself relax, counting on the reputation he had earned himself through twenty years of hard work for Potter and Albus Dumbledore. It hadn't been enough. Severus couldn't even collect himself enough to do even the slightest clever scheming. 'Now I...' Now he didn't know what to do; a particularly strange situation for Severus who was the master of fast solutions. He was not used to this, a Remus Lupin who wasn't weak and pliant. The underdog had gone, much to Severus' confusion. He hadn't thought that Lupin would stick to his decision. 'Lupin,' Severus said firmly, taking a deep breath to renew his determination, 'I am not going to leave unless you come with me.'

'Oh,' Remus said, partly surprised, partly not. This was the stubborn Severus he had known in school, the Severus who was gloomy and grumpy and hard to handle. The Severus who had been James's and Sirius's enemy. Remus sat quietly for a moment, considering his options. He didn't want to scare Severus more than he already had, so the inner wolf was not really a solution. No, killing his opponent with kindness, that would be a better idea. Severus would get tired of it soon. 'Very well,' Remus said and smiled, sharp-teethed and white, despite his resolve. 'I'll go make a bed for you, then. You are probably going to be here for some time. I'll appreciate it if we share the expenses.'

 

Severus turned in the narrow cot. The room was draughty and he was cold. His right leg didn't work and his neck was stiff and sore. He pushed the blankets off, much to his regret: the room was freezing. Somewhere in the flat he could hear Lupin pottering around; judging from the smell he was making coffee. That was something at least. Outside, the sun hid behind the stormy clouds and a shatter of heavy rain hit the window from time to time. Severus wondered if he had done the right thing. Forcing himself, or rather his company, upon an unwilling Lupin probably wasn't the best of approaches to lure the werewolf back to Wizarding London but Kingsley had left Severus with little choice. Apart from casting the Imperius on Lupin, there were no other options. Either Lupin returned willingly or Severus' life would be ruined, at least for some time until Kingsley had revenged himself for Severus' inadequate effort.

There was a soft knocking on the door. 'Severus, are you awake?' Lupin's voice was soft and kind; there were no traces of yesterday's strange determination.

'Yes.' Severus didn't feel any need to be polite. It would sound false. Lupin knew him too well, which could be either a bad thing, or a good thing. At least Severus didn't need to act kind.

'There is breakfast if you want some,' Lupin continued. 'How do you want your eggs?'

Severus managed to get one leg out of bed. He felt like a turtle, stranded on its back. He tried to push himself further, to no avail. Salazar and all his snakes! How he _hated_ his body when it behaved like this! He had felt impotent and powerless for too long and too many times during the years, and the sensation came crashing down on him every time his muscles and his will were at odds. Every time he was reminded of the awful moment when he realised that the Dark Lord had no use for him, discarding him as unwanted, worthless rubbish.

Lupin might occasionally be ruled by the moon, but Severus was ruled by pride. 'Lupin?' he managed, between gritted teeth, scrabbling for his cane. 'Lupin, _please_?'

Remus opened the door, looking surprised as he saw Severus still in bed. 'Is something wrong?' he asked, trying not to stare.

'No, obviously not. I only called you in here for fun.' Severus' glare could have killed. 'Help me up, you idiot,' he managed, annoyed with Lupin and the entire situation. 

'Of course, since you ask so politely,' Remus said, slightly worried. But as long as Severus could manage to be angry, he didn't think it was something serious. He stepped closer to the bed and held out a hand for Severus to take. The thin fingers felt bony in Remus' hand.

'I need... the right leg,' Severus groaned; the pain was worse than it used to be. 'I can't move it.'

Remus hesitated. 'Is it all right if I do it?' He didn't think Severus would like to be touched, not by Remus, or anyone else for that matter. The man had always seemed prickly as a hedgehog.

Severus nodded. This was not dignified, but staying in bed would be even more embarrassing. He both wanted and didn't want Lupin to touch him. The old urge welled up inside him by the mere thought of those strong fingers on his leg, touching, encasing, stroking... Oh, Salazar! Severus took a deep breath and thought of the Dark Lord, of Nagini, of Mr Filch and his bloody cat. The warmth that Lupin's body emitted felt so alluring in the cold room. But there was no way Severus dared react to it. Lupin would be appalled, just about as appalled as Severus felt by the mere thought of doing anything else than hating the dark creature in front of him.

'Here... let me...' Remus reached out and almost tenderly helped Severus turn around and pull his leg over the edge of the bed. Softly supporting Severus with an arm around his shoulder, Remus waited for the painful expression to leave Severus' sharp features. 'Better?' he asked quietly, not letting go of Severus.

Severus opened his eyes that had been shut tight against the searing pain, and there Lupin was, so close, so alluring. Severus hadn't known that there were hazel flecks in the amber eyes. It made them seem warm. A second they both sat there, not moving, not speaking, not reacting. 'I don't need your pity,' he said, without his usual acerbic bite.

'I know,' Remus answered. 'And you won't get any.'

'Yes,' Severus finally said, looking into Lupin's eyes for an instant longer, unable to keep himself from indulging, just for this tiny, almost unmeasurable moment. 'Thank you.'

 

It was the beginning of a routine. Lupin didn't ask Severus when he was going to leave, and Severus courteously didn't mention Kingsley's offer. Time stood still, despite December's hastening towards Christmas. Reluctantly Severus had accepted Lupin's help. After the first day they had breakfast together every morning, late, something that suited Severus well. He usually woke up when the clattering of china and coffee cups began. Lupin would knock on the door, step inside, and carefully help Severus get out of bed. Severus, on the other hand, had soon learnt to appreciate what he was offered. It had been so long since anyone had touched him, and Lupin's touch was no longer unwelcome. The only problem was that it added to the already blooming attraction Severus felt. Contrary to what Severus had thought, he felt no urge to rush back to the Wizarding world, and not just because of the less than pleasant welcome that awaited him, did he not bring Lupin with him.

At the breakfast table they sat in silence, both of them eating a few slices of toast with butter and jam, sharing a pot of hot, strong coffee of a quality that would have revolted Severus a week ago. Some mornings Lupin made scrambled eggs, maybe a tomato or two on the side. Severus felt oddly satisfied with their strange arrangement. He had never had anyone who took care of him, never the way Lupin did. A week went by, and none of them mentioned that it would be a stellar idea if Severus buggered off, back to Kingsley and the Ministry.

On the seventh morning, Severus put his knife down, looked searchingly at Remus Lupin and said, 'I didn't know you liked to sleep in.'

Remus smiled politely. Severus clearly did, and he never woke up before Remus, early, before there were even the smallest sign of the winter sun rising on the sky. Remus envied Severus the hours of deep sleep that Remus himself rarely got. 'I'm up early. I like to...' Remus hesitated. He didn't think Severus would care to hear about the early visits to the church around the corner. He wouldn't understand. Severus had already redeemed himself. Remus didn't think that Severus Snape would appreciate the peace Remus was searching for in the quietness of the church. 'I like to take a walk before breakfast.' Remus felt a bit like a traitor who had just denied being acquainted with his best friend.

'Not much fresh air to be had... here,' Severus replied, keeping a neutral tone. 'London, I mean.'

The silence that had become a habit spread between them again. 'Thanks,' Severus finally said, indicating that he meant the breakfast. He managed to get out of the chair by himself.

The next morning Severus woke before dawn. He lay in the narrow bed, listening to the church bells announcing that the day was already seven hours old. It had been some time since Severus was awake at that godawful time of day. The flat was quiet. Maybe Lupin had gone for his morning walk? Listening to the sound of early cars and buses, Severus didn't even considering getting up. His leg seemed cooperative when he turned on his side, puffing up the pillow before he sank back in the bed. No matter how much it pained him, he had to admit that the short minute when Lupin helped him out of bed was a source of... pleasure, contentment. It was probably the closest he would ever get to Remus Lupin, but a man was allowed to hope. Somehow the entire situation, this dead-water of unfinished solutions, made Severus unable to react or to admit precisely why he was here. Was it because of Lucius' and Kingsley's pressure? Was it because of the long-lasting attraction to Lupin, or was it simply because this sudden change of lifestyle was more welcome than Severus would ever have thought? When Severus looked at his life, the life he had worked so hard to get, it wasn't really as interesting and wonderful as it had appeared a week ago. 

He really didn't want to attempt an explanation.

 

Remus returned home in a good mood. The peace that had been disturbed by Severus' uninvited and unwanted visit seemed to have found its former equilibrium, and even Remus' anger against his god had lessened. Remus had even laughed at himself for berating the Messiah for not having everything under control, as if the man was supposed to run peoples' lives for them. No, Remus believed in free will, except for that one time of month when his will wasn't his own. If one was able to be strong, it would be to mock the saviour if one refused to use that strength, that was what Remus thought, and he had forgotten that for some time.

Maybe it was Severus who had made him see it? The man had fallen from grace, then collected the pieces of his broken life and found the peace _he_ had been looking for. Until the Minister of Magic had use for Severus' talent, that was. Remus thought that it was the main factor for letting Severus stay - that the man evoked forgotten feelings and thoughts in Remus' mind and heart. Not that he had thought about it deeply, but Severus' presence just felt right, familiar. A few odd pieces of a puzzle that surprisingly fit very well together.

'I seem to have missed the grumpy bugger,' Remus grinned before he opened the front door, juggling a bag of fresh bagels and a bottle of orange juice. The flat was quiet. Severus was probably sleeping, as usual. Remus didn't mind. As he began making breakfast, he wondered if this was how a happy marriage should feel, this new feeling of satisfaction mixed with an urge to do something for another being. Remus had to admit he was pleased when he watched Severus sitting in the chair across his, quietly drinking his coffee and reading the newspaper (before Remus, mind, but nevertheless). He had never felt like that with Dora: it had been guilt and regret, in the middle of oatmeal and toast and baked beans. Every time he had been with her, Remus had regretted. He hadn't taken her out of love, but out of guilt. Nobody deserved to be treated like that. Sighing, Remus put down the coffee pot, rummaged around in his jeans pocket and found a piece of string. He tied his hair into a pony tail, so that Severus could get a better hold around his shoulder. It was just practical, and to be considerate. Nothing more.

The shadow of a smile graced Severus' face when Remus opened the door to the diminutive guest bedroom. It disappeared as fast as it had come, making Remus uncertain whether he had seen it or not. 'Good morning, Severus,' Remus greeted, this time not waiting for Severus' confirmation that he needed help. The tentative touch of the first day had changed into a firm grip, unhurried and somewhat intimate. It was not easy to help another man out of bed without being intimate when there was nothing but a dark blue silk pyjamas between Severus' skin and Remus' hands. 

'Lupin.' Severus managed to keep calm. The anticipation before the moment of care and warmth made it hard to look sleepy and detached. Severus reached up, sliding his arm around Lupin's neck, pulling himself up enough for Lupin to slide his arm around Severus' waist in return. It was impossible not to imagine a lover's touch as their bodies were pressed together, Lupin's smelling of winter and freshly baked bread. Severus closed his eyes, just an instant before he swung his legs out of the bed. Severus needed that, to close his eyes against the temptation, keeping the thought of the kiss they would never share a secret, safely hidden behind his pale eyelids and the long, black eyelashes.

'Oh,' Remus exclaimed, surprised by the force of Severus' movement. He lost his balance, his left side slamming into the wall, the impact pushing Severus firmly into his arms. 'Sorry,' Remus apologised, even before they had steadied themselves. Only then did he realise that Severus' arms were firmly slung around his neck and Severus' body was flush against his. Severus felt lean and strong and... oh. Oh. Remus bit his lip. Severus was definitely harder in one place in particular, and the sensation made Remus' body tingle. The wolf woke before Remus realised he was staring down at Severus who seemed to have frozen on the spot.

'I'm sorry, you aren't hurt, are you?' Remus asked and broke the spell that had hit them both. Pushing the thought of Severus as more than a friend far away, Remus handed Severus the wolf-headed cane and fled into the kitchen. One was allowed to act like a coward once in a while.

 

The incident had an effect, however (apart from the two of them being very careful in the morning when Severus was getting out of bed), and it was not one Remus had anticipated. The silence that had been so widespread throughout their few days together was dwindling. A question here and there, an occasional 'thank you', and the soft, dark laughter as Severus read something amusing in the book he had borrowed from Remus overtook the lack of words. It was as if Remus' senses had been enhanced, his perception of Severus' movements sharpened - or maybe he just saw Severus in quite another light now?

Severus was oddly unaffected, as if it had been a common event, standing there, pressed up against another man with desire shining in his eyes and his body reacting. Remus had never considered that Severus might be interested in men. Personally, he didn't care. He had known since the moment he was bitten that there would be little choice for him. Man or woman, if anyone wanted Remus with all his faults and errors and guilt trips and nightly escapades with the moon he'd gladly take them. Tonks... the problem was that neither she, nor the gang of elderly women she had teamed up with to ruin his resolve had wanted him just as he was... they had not been interested in _Remus Lupin_. They had not respected his wishes, and he had been too concerned about being liked to care much.

As he sat there in his sofa on a cold December evening with the rain pouring outside, just as usual, Remus realised that Severus had always respected him, even in the midst of his hatred and loathing. Severus had seen him as Remus Lupin the werewolf, Lupin the coward, and also as Lupin the warrior. There had been no masks that hadn't been seen through.

Remus had to admit, though, that Severus had a strange way to respect his wishes when it came to refusing Kingsley Shacklebolt and his job offers, that much was true. However, Remus hadn't been manipulated or dragged off, tied up and bespelled , to the Wizarding world. Even stranger was the realisation that Severus was a sexual being, someone with urges and needs and instincts. If Remus might have been in doubt, but the wolf wasn't. It had known the scent of arousal the instant it had hit Remus' sensitive nostrils, and it had liked it. Remus was glad there was a long time until next full moon. Severus would probably be gone by then.

Remus put down the journal he had been flipping through and went to make some afternoon tea for the two of them. He knew now what Severus liked, so he didn't ask. As he returned with a small tray with tea and a muffin from yesterday and two pieces of toast with Leicester cheese, Severus took the tray carefully, his fingers brushing over Remus' hands, ever so softly.

Remus didn't get much sleep that night, but it wasn't because he was thinking of all the mistakes he had made during the war.

 

**5.**

They sat at the small table in the kitchen, sharing the simple breakfast Remus had made. Severus took a deep drink of his coffee. At least it was hot. If he stayed much longer, he would have to persuade Lupin to buy something better. Instant coffee was not precisely to Severus' liking. He smiled, hidden behind the cup. It hadn't been as bad as he had feared, leaving the comfortable luxury that he had become used to. He didn't need it. But the coffee... He'd rather have something decent. Good coffee and Remus Lupin. That would be adequate. Then he could manage life, no matter which shape it took. A bit of revenge on Lucius wouldn't be too bad, either.

It had been two weeks, and they lived together as if they had done so for years. No conflicts, no arguing (mostly because Severus accepted that he was a guest at best, and an intruder, if one had to be honest), and not too much talk. It suited Severus. But as Lupin crept under his skin, so did the idea of actually getting to know the Remus Lupin who wasn't his old enemy, the friend of the two people who had made his years at Hogwarts a Hell on earth. Severus knew he had lost the fight against his own feelings. He was in love with Remus Lupin, and he could either give up or fight to get the man he had longed for since Severus for the first time had the slightest romantic thought concerning another person.

'Mmm, Lupin?' Severus said casually. 'Where is it that you go in the morning? Is there a park nearby, or?' He kept his tone of voice neutral. He didn't know if Lupin would mind his curiosity.

'Er-' Remus managed, a little bewildered by the question. 'Er- to the churchyard. Around the corner.' It was not like Severus to show any interest in his life as such, and Remus didn't want to lie outright. 'I like to go sit in the church when they open, before Eucharist.'

'Really?' Severus enquired. 'I didn't know you-' He stopped himself. It was none of his business. 'Are you?' he said, nevertheless. 'Religious? That... Muggle way?' He raised an eyebrow, inadvertently indicating that he found it silly.

'I don't know,' Remus answered, as honestly as he possibly could. 'It's not as peculiar as it seems, Severus. Not when you have seen what you and I have seen through the years.'

'An afterlife, you mean?' Severus leaned forward, enchanted by the idea of an intellectual discussion, one of very few he had been offered through the years. The Ministry was dull in that regard.

'No,' Remus said. 'Peace. Guilt and redemption. Not all of us are able to be our own saviours, even if we try.' His face changed, the serious mask changing into a wide grin. 'Also, I hope there is a higher deity who's keeping an eye on Sirius and James. God knows what kind of trouble they can make if they are roaming free somewhere behind the Veil.'

There was that. Severus could not argue against that point of view. He did his best anyway, and it took a long time before they left the kitchen. Severus was even beginning to accept the vile taste of instant coffee.

 

The second week turned into the third and Christmas was approaching. 'I think we should make preparations,' Remus suggested one afternoon. There had been no talk about Severus' departure, only about books and plays and religion and about one or two programs they had watched on the telly together. The silence had been broken and two secluded, obscure men had found the pleasure in sharing opinions (strongly, at times) and ideas (some more clever than others) with another intelligent human being.

'Preparations?' Severus asked, having quite an idea about which preparations.

'For a Christmas day. Dinner. And the days before New Year's. You know, food. And maybe a tree.' Remus paused, not sure if he dared ask. He did it anyway. 'You are not leaving? Before Christmas, I mean?' Remus almost didn't dare breathe. He _wanted_ Severus to stay. He was a fool, but the company had been unexpectedly pleasant. Christmas was always hard to get through; the thoughts of the small family he could have had were particularly haunting at that time of year. Severus was a distraction, but not only that.

'No, I'm not. Didn't I say so? Your brain didn't seem to have any serious damage when I told you.' It hadn't been as much of a hassle to stay at Lupin's as he had thought. Apart from the fact that Severus was longing for what he couldn't get. Despite his need for Lupin, this was tolerable. They were slowly getting closer, becoming friends. There were aspects of Lupin that Severus reluctantly admitted he had overlooked, somewhat on purpose. The man was bright, intellectual, brilliant at discussing even the most advanced spells and charms. Severus huffed, and added arrogantly, 'I am not leaving before you have agreed to go back with me.' It sounded a bit like a proposal and Severus hurried to add, 'and take the position Kingsley has offered you.'

'And here I thought you asked me because you liked me,' Remus grinned, before he could stop himself. It would actually be easier to go back if it had been Severus who had asked, and not Kingsley. No matter what, Remus was firm in his resolve. He was not going back. Ever.

Severus didn't manage to keep his face calm, or at least so it felt. It was as if the desire in one instant was written all over his face. Oh Lord. Asked because he liked Lupin... 'I- I-'

'Severus?' Remus watched the strict, cold man crumble and a slightly insecure young-looking Severus appear behind the facade. Oh, damned. Severus looked _cute_! There was no other word for it, and Remus wouldn't have believed his own eyes, had he not lived amiable with the man for more than two weeks. 'So you are staying.'

'Oh sod off, Lupin. Are you deaf!' Severus hurried to shield himself with anger and sarcasm, just as he always did. 'I'm probably going to stay forever if you continue to be so stubborn. That should teach you, idiot werewolf!'

Ignoring the werewolf comment, Remus leaned closer to Severus, entertaining the thought that it might fluster Severus even more. 'Good,' Remus said. 'Good.'

Remus didn't think that Severus Snape actually was able to blush. He had been wrong.

 

The two men were standing closely together in Remus' small kitchen. There was flour and mince meat and oranges spread over the table, and a dusty bottle of brandy had a decoration of white sugar where a greasy hand had touched it and left the sugar and the imprint of fingers. 

'No, not like that!' Severus took the star-shaped cutter from Remus. 'Honestly, Lupin. Mince pies are not that difficult to make, just follow the recipe. Imagine it's a potion, for Salazar's sake!'

'But,' Remus argued weakly, amused by Severus' eager participation, no matter it was a _snarky_ eager participation. 'But I thought they were supposed to cover the entire-'

'Here, let me do it.' Severus moved closer, his hip against Lupin's. He didn't think about it until it was too late and it would be too embarrassing to move away. 'Do it like that,' Severus commanded and took the smaller cutter and began making lids for the pies. He tried not to think of Lupin's warm body, so close to his own. He pulled the bottoms of the pies closer and pressed one of the stars on top of the first pie. Then Lupin stepped even closer, the taller man looking over Severus' shoulder. Severus could feel Lupin's chest against his back. 'Lupin, damn it!'

Remus stepped back a little. Maybe he shouldn't provoke Severus, but the wolfish part of him wanted to. Badly. ' _Remus_ ,' he said, almost purring. 'Haven't you known me long enough to call me by my first name?'

'Idiot,' Severus managed, disturbed by Lupin's closeness. 'Why would I do that?'

'Oh, Severus... Indulge me. I've called you by your first name for years.' Remus wanted to hear Severus say his name, not 'Lupin' or 'Wolf' or worse, 'Idiot'.

Severus turned a little, enough to glare menacingly at Lupin. It usually made the man back off and look like a hurt puppy, but for some reason it didn't work. 'Not by my leave you haven't,' he snapped, not as angrily as he could. He turned his back to Lupin again, pretending he didn't care. 'If it makes you happy,' he growled, indicating that he really didn't care at all.

'I think so, Severus,' Remus said softly and almost coincidentally let his hand slide over Severus', unable to hold back the growing desire he felt for his guest. 'I think so.'

Severus turned again, wanting to say something discouraging as not to let Lupin - Remus - know how badly he had fallen, how he wished for more than just the familiarity and the kind, occasional touch. When he met Remus' eyes, it came as a blow. The desire that made him long for Remus Lupin was mirrored so closely in Remus' eyes that Severus had no ability, despite his famous talents for Legilimency, to see where his own desire ended and Remus' began. It left him unable to breathe, unable to speak, unable to move.

It was then the door bell rang and the moment of magic disappeared, leaving two confused men in a shatter of sugar and spices.

There was a moment of awkwardness. 'I'll open.' Remus took a tea towel and rubbed most of the flour off his hands before he took the few yards to the front door in four long strides. Severus limped slowly after him, trying to get his emotions under control. As Remus opened, Severus was in for yet another surprise.

Outside, on the brown doormat with a picture of a dog printed on it, and the word "welcome" written across the beige and brown surface, stood Percy Weasley.

 

'I still think you should come back, Mr Snape' Percy said, and took yet another bite of a mince pie. He chewed and sank before he continued. 'Minister Shacklebolt is going on about how he can't do anything without you, which is of course a blatant lie, but it is true that he has come to rely on your analyst abilities. He doesn't trust Mr Malfoy, no wonder, he's about as reliable as-' Percy clapped a hand over his mouth, probably realising that he had had one glass of brandy too many. 'I'm sorry about that,' he said, 'Mr Malfoy is your friend, it is not up to me to criticise the Minister's advisers.'

'Oh, come off it, Weasley,' Severus said. 'Just because Remus is here... you usually don't hold back.' Severus rolled his eyes and told Remus that Percy was 'able to diplomatically dismiss any annoying person as well as to offend him in twenty four ways without the person in question realising it before he had reached home, eaten dinner and slept for two hours, then he would wake up, only to realise that Severus Snape's secretary had a tongue that might seem silken but in reality was sharper than a scalpel and that it had been used to excellence half a day earlier.'

Remus laughed. 'I have taught Mr Weasley too, Severus. I am quite aware that you would never hire someone without talent.'

They had eaten dinner together while Percy tried to talk Severus into returning to the Ministry and the wizarding world. Severus had refused. If Remus wouldn't come, neither would he. That was the message Percy could carry back to the Minister (who definitely had been digging his own grave in this case) and Lucius (who wouldn't receive his usual case of Elf wine for Christmas, just as pay-back for his participation in the trap he had set for someone he should have regarded as his friend). Percy, however, had been persistent - persistent enough for Severus to suggest that they, in turn, dug into the mince pies and the brandy. Percy was not really holding his brandy (or any other kind of alcohol) well. Two glasses, and Severus would not have to listen to Percy's nagging. If Remus wouldn't go, Severus stayed too. They had accused him of being stubborn, and now they could experience how right they were. That Remus might want his flat back at some point didn't bother Severus at all. There were solutions to everything. Muggle hotels could be very pleasant.

Percy looked tired. Brandy was a wonderful thing. He was leaning tiredly against the sofa's armrest. Remus watched him a little before he put a hand on Percy's knee. 'Are you going to Disapparate home, Percy? I am not sure it is a very good idea.'

'If Mr Snape could Apparate us?' Percy said, clearly hoping that Severus would agree.

'Not going,' Severus just said, absolutely without mercy.

'Then I'll stay too,' Percy said and straightened up, determined. 'I'll leave if Mr Snape leaves.'

'The world has gone mad,' Severus said. 'Put him in the guest room. I'll sleep on the sofa. We can send him home tomorrow morning.'

'Are you going with him?' Remus asked, afraid of the answer, despite Severus' repeated refusal of the idea.

'No,' Severus said. 'Not until you are.'

 

The sofa was a mistake. Severus had been tossing and turning for what felt like hours and sleep didn't come. The room was cold, and not even the heavy woollen blanket was enough to chase the cold away. The day's events continued to churn in his mind; Remus' touch, the look in his eyes. Severus almost made himself believe that he had been hallucinating. Then it started all over again. The touch, the soft whispering, the way Remus had aligned his body with Severus as they stood at the kitchen table.

'Argh!' Severus sneered at the night and the cold and the thoughts that wouldn't stop.

Yes, the sofa had been a mistake, and it was uncomfortable and bulky and Severus wished that he, too, had had a glass too many. It would possibly also have prevented his feet and hands from turning into frozen lumps of meat and bone before morning.

On the other side of the wall, Remus was turning in his bed too. He could hear Severus move around, and he felt guilty (didn't he always?) that he hadn't offered Severus his own bed. Severus wouldn't have taken the offer, Remus was certain, but he should still have made it. On the bedside table the clock was ticking the night away, so very slowly. The duvet was too heavy and Remus felt overheated. It was a bad idea to think about Severus when one tried to sleep. Through the door, Remus could hear Severus' annoyed sighing. It made him smile into the darkness, despite his bad conscience. It was strange how he had come to know this new Severus who looked so much like the one he had grown up with and fought with and even hated for some time. But Severus had changed; changed in a way that Remus wished that he could adopt. There was a sense of vulnerability behind the cold, ruthless surface now, something that Remus found interesting, very interesting. He would like to explore... Yes, what was it that he wanted to explore, exactly?

The reply came to Remus as clearly and as fast as a thunderbolt. That precise moment it struck him with a certainty he had never before felt in his entire life. This was not the wolf who demanded it, neither was it two middle-aged stubborn ladies who had decided what would be good for Remus Lupin.

No, this was Remus deciding what would be good for Remus Lupin, and furthermore the solution was of a kind that Remus could accept. No one in the entire world would accuse him for having overindulged or taken something he didn't deserve or having won something that was too good for him.

No, this was exactly right, and it didn't matter that Remus had more than once acted cowardly, because when all came to all, what he was about to do demanded a kind of courage that very few people had.

Remus pushed the duvet aside, got out of bed, and without being bothered to find a robe, he opened the door to the sitting room. 'Severus? Are you awake?' He asked, looking at the almost invisible shape of the sofa. The heavy curtains that were made to keep the moon at bay did not let in much light.

'I am now,' a sourly voice replied. 'What do you want?'

'You,' Remus said, and stepped over to the sofa.

 

When Severus woke up it was light outside. His body ached and his leg was acting up intolerably. He tried to turn, very slowly, partly because of the leg, partly as not to fall out of the narrow guest bed that he had slept in for days. Strangely, the bed continued and Severus didn't fall off. Dazed by the warmth of the duvet, Severus attempted to wrap his mind around that anomaly. He rubbed his eyes and tried to focus. He didn't know this room! What...

Severus sat up, ignoring his leg and the searing pain the sudden movement evoked.

The night came crashing back - how could it not when his body was weak and sore in all the right places? Severus raised a hand, touching his lips. They still felt soft and well-kissed. Remus... Remus who had suddenly appeared, determined that Severus was to be his... the strong arms, Remus' lean body, naked skin... Oh, Salazar be praised! Pulling the duvet up,Severus realised he was naked. That was somehow to be expected, but it made things very real, just as the shadows of kiss marks that were strewn over his stomach. The bloody wolf had indeed claimed what was his and Severus didn't mind - quite the opposite. He liked it, and he liked the feeling of being kissed, owned and thoroughly shagged, despite his inexperience in the matter.

Remus' half of the bed was empty, and Severus had a suspicion why. Werewolf Remus Lupin had indeed been bossy and demanding and absolutely wonderful, but he might not have been as confident as he had appeared. At another time in his life, Severus would have been deeply offended. Hadn't he given Remus everything? Now he just laughed, knowing exactly where he could find his exile werewolf.

With some difficulties Severus managed to get up. Percy was still asleep, like any other sensible human being in the country. A quick shower and a quick spell to fetch his clothes and cane made Severus ready to leave. He managed to overcome the obstacle of the stairs and walked slowly, but as fast as his leg (and the other sore parts of his body) allowed him down the street and around the corner to the church that Remus went to. The small stone church was neither impressive, nor especially inviting. Severus didn't care. He knew he would find the one thing inside that he had sought for for years, not that it in any way contradicted the message that Remus seem to appreciate so much.

Love.

As he walked down the aisle of the empty church, he felt happier than he had ever felt in his entire life. 'Remus,' he called out softly to the man who sat close to the altar, almost hidden behind a pillar on the second row.

Remus turned around, a smile that echoed Severus' on his face. 'Severus,' he just said, and that was enough.

'Let's leave your saviour to those who cannot save themselves. He has enough to do as it is,' Severus said, 'We're going home. I'll pay my share of the expenses.'

'Yes,' Remus agreed and rose, leaving the luggage of guilt and blame behind as he stood, thanking his Muggle god for his help. 'I would like that.'

**Author's Note:**

> For Lordhellebore who requested a story that included "Remus survives the last battle although he hoped not to. Severus survives also and is cleared of all charges, hoping to finally be able and pursue Remus. Surprisingly, Remus goes religious... Severus is alienated, but takes interest for the sake of having something to talk about and establishing at least a friendship."
> 
> The title is inspired by Ezra Pound's book on the French artist and sculptor Henri Gaudier-Brzeska.


End file.
